


Hunt You Down (Eat You Alive)

by runningwithwerewolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Derek is a Good Alpha, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Matchmaker Peter Hale, Mild Blood, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Oral Sex, PTSD reference, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Sex, Stiles is Not a Virgin, Wingman Scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8426185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningwithwerewolves/pseuds/runningwithwerewolves
Summary: Stupid territorial alphas and their ridiculous gorgeous multicolored eyes.
Wait, what?





	1. Lost and Confused

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlexHamato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexHamato/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shifts a little more until his hands are out from under him. He tucks his arms up, putting his hands under his head and letting his elbows rest in the crook of Derek’s waist. The alpha doesn’t make any effort to move away, so he assumes this is fine.
> 
> Because this makes sense right? Totally, it’s completely normal.

The light of the day is fading into cold blue hues, the moon half risen over the tops of the trees. And Stiles is wondering why in the hell he agreed to this secret woodland training session with Scott.

 

In the woods. At night.

 

It is as if he hadn’t been through this before, as if they’d  _both_  forgotten how last time they were out in the woods in the middle of the night both of their lives were changed irrevocably. Only, Stiles  _hadn’t_  forgotten. He trudges along the same woods now, mumbling to himself about how stupid this all is. Especially now that Derek is the new alpha in town and these were ‘ _his woods’_.

 

Stupid territorial alphas and their ridiculous gorgeous multicolored eyes.

 

_Wait, what?_

 

Stiles stops dead in his tracks and shakes his head at himself. He pushes the thoughts of Derek’s taut biceps and perfect soft lips, down. His stomach flip flops as he continues down the path. The clearing isn’t far now, he’s pretty sure. He’s also pretty sure he has a serious Derek problem. It wasn’t at all a sudden issue, he’d been feeling weird around the alpha since day one.

 

He’d always thought he was good-looking, and he was jealous of that. Then his jealousy somehow turned into desire. Maybe it was because Derek loved getting in his space in an effort to scare him. Maybe it was the fact that Derek had snuck through his window and then pinned him against his own bedroom door. Maybe it was the way the wolf stared at Stiles lips and breathed his air.

 

He doesn’t like him. Doesn’t trust him. It’s mutual too from what Derek said two weeks ago, while Stiles was  _saving his fucking life_. He treaded water for that asshole for two hours, holding up his paralyzed body, for  _two hours_.

 

Did he get a hint of gratitude? A thank you? A  _good job, you saved my ass_? No.

 

Instead, that bastard says they don’t trust each other, and that Stiles was only helping him because he was a pathetic little shit who couldn’t protect himself. OK, that wasn’t  _exactly_  what he said. But it was what he had implied.

 

A rustling of leaves and Stiles stops dead. His body clenches; his shoulders tight, neck ducked and rigid. His fingers are paralyzed. He clenches his fists, just to remind himself that he isn’t in fact paralyzed. Because he definitely has some PTSD from that incident in the garage. And of course, by incident, he means being a useless bystander while he was made to watch that mechanic die a slow, bloody agonizing death.

 

Now, he might die a similar death.

 

More rustling and Stiles suddenly realizes his bladder is full and really hopes he doesn’t piss himself. Though that might deter the predator hiding in the bushes. Maybe he should just let loose? A growl, low and menacing; made to be more menacing because he can’t see where it’s coming from, and it sounds hungry. Maybe he’s imagining that last part.

 

He edges around slowly, his head barely moving with the action. His heart pounding furiously in his ribs. Please don’t be hungry.  _Pleasepleaseplease._

 

Another low growl, and harsh breathing. He realizes quickly that whatever it is, it’s coming closer. Stiles’ eyes widen and he remembers his dad’s gift. After the whole, Kanima fiasco he couldn’t keep all the piling secrets from his genius father anymore. His dad actually confronted him and Scott and they gave up the goods and told him everything. 

 

Well, they might have downplayed some of the pants-shitting terror, but now his dad knows most of what’s been happening in the last year.  He insisted that Stiles carry protection, saying that Scott couldn’t be everywhere all the time and neither could he. So, he took him to the shooting range again, for the first time in at least two years. His dad even lets him use his old favorite gun.

 

That gorgeous Beretta happens to be tucked under his jacket, loaded full of wolfs bane.

 

He feels the chill of the night air cut through his jacket and undershirt. _Why didn’t he wear a long sleeve?_ He shivers and hopes the beast doesn’t take it as a call to arms. He waits for several seconds and starts reaching for his gun, slow and steady.

 

Another growl and movement.

 

_Fuck I’m dead._

 

He hits the ground face-first, mouth eating dirt, scrambling under the weight of the monster on his back. Based on the fur brushing into his spine he thinks  _wolf_ , and immediately hopes it’s not Peter.  _He can’t still turn into a monster-wolf right?_ He pushes as hard as he can after he realizes the creature isn’t biting into him yet.

 

He throws the bastard off and rolls away, somehow managing to pull the gun out as he goes. He gets halfway to his feet, gun wobbling in his hands before the beast leaps for him again. He shoots, and misses terribly. Later, he’ll blame that on his shaking hands and the fact he hasn’t had his Adderall today.

 

That is, if he’s alive later.

 

The beast throws him into a tree and he yells in pain. His back meets a hard branch and he whines. His eyes are closed tight, mouth clamped shut. His gun was lost in the darkness when the beast threw him.  So now he waits, sure of his impending doom. The leaves rustle again and he inches one eye open. The beast is stalking along the forest floor toward him. Then he’s standing, then he’s not furry anymore. He steps past the last tree blocking the rays of cold moonlight and Stiles wants to scream.

 

“Derek?” He opens both eyes and glares at the alpha. “What the fuck!?”

 

“What. Are. You doing?”

 

_Full stops really?_

 

“What am I- I could ask you the same thing, you asshole.” Stiles coughs, his ribs aching. He stands up slowly, brushing leaves off his jeans as he goes. “I mean, I was just out here minding my own damn business and then your furry territorial ass comes out of nowhere and sidelines me? What the hell were you-”

 

The wind is knocked out of him and he realizes Derek is pinning him to the tree he was leaning against for support. Again with the pinning.  _What is wrong with this guy?_ What _isn’t_  wrong with him, is clearly the better question. He breathes a heavy sigh and mumbles several curse words at the alpha’s glaring eyes.

 

“Seriously? Why do you keep doing that-”

 

“SHUT. UP.” He growls the words and Stiles stills, his eyes searching Derek’s glowing red irises.

 

His dick twitches unhelpfully and he wishes he were dead. He’s sure Derek can smell the horniness coming off him. He wants Derek to just put him out his misery now, and he’s about to suggest it when Derek inches closer. Stiles’ breath hitches. Derek’s mouth is inches from his and Stiles can’t breathe, his heart rabbiting under his shirt. Then Derek’s thigh brushes past his leg and he realizes how utterly naked the alpha is.

 

“You’re naked.” Stiles’ mouth moves without his brains permission.

 

Not a new sensation, but still. He’d at least hoped that his brain would try to stop him. At least once, in the interest of self-preservation.

 

“I said, shut up.”

 

“Well, OK, but what are you doing?”

 

Derek’s face unclenches. It’s a miracle, because he’s no longer glaring at Stiles like he’s about to rip into his throat. In fact, he’s not even looking at his eyes anymore. He’s staring, at his mouth?

 

_What the hell is happening right now?_

 

“Derek?”

 

The alpha waivers, his body inching forward kind of like he’s about to pass out. If Stiles didn’t know better, he would think Derek is about to kiss him. _No way._ Clearly he’s planning to whisper the way he plans on horrifically murdering Stiles. Then proceed to kick his ass out of the woods or something.  _Obviously, that’s what he’s doing. Has to be._

 

“What, are you?” Stiles can’t finish the sentence; he can’t process this right now. It’s too much for his horny little brain.

 

I mean, his dick is already hard, and literally all Derek has done has invaded his space, and breathed on him for like ten minutes. It’s totally, pathetically  _virgin_  for that to be enough to get him hard. He’s more embarrassed and utterly confused by the second. And he really (not at all close to the first time) wishes Derek would use his words.

 

“Seriously, what’s happening?”

 

“I…” Derek mutters, his eyes still firmly locked on Stiles’ lips.

 

Stiles’ tongue peeks out to lick a stripe of saliva across his lower lip. This elicits a strange sound from the back of Derek’s throat and he wonders again, for what must be the millionth time what the fuck is happening. Suddenly he’s being pushed away from the tree. He stumbles away and spins around to ask again,  _“what the fuck???”,_  but as  _per-freaking_  usual, the creepy stalker has dispersed into the shadows.

 

“Fucking werewolves.”

 

\--

 

Five days later and school’s officially out for the Summer.

 

Stiles could not be happier to watch the hordes of students pouring out of the school behind him. Yelling in glee for swim time, no more homework and underage drinking. He’s happy about the second thing, but happiest about the fact that he doesn’t have to balance grades with supernatural killing machines and bullies with fucking claws and fangs stalking him all the live long day.

 

That, plus his jeep is no longer impounded as evidence. _Thank God_. Or more accurately, his dad. He was sick of riding with his dad in the mornings and Scott and Allison at night. His dad wasn’t so bad, but he did keep bugging him about his connection to Derek Hale and how his friends were pulling him into danger all the time. He was tired of explaining how Scott would literally be lost without him, that he probably wouldn’t survive a day actually. 

 

Not to mention that he didn’t really have a connection to Derek. It was a random, annoying, incredibly violent connection by association. It was all Scott’s fault really, and he always exaggerated that part. He also, always left out the  _violent_  aspects of his and Derek’s,  _connection_.

 

He didn’t tell him how Derek had actually snuck into his bedroom, multiple times just to harass him. Obviously because he valued his life and knew that his father was the one person that could always make the rest of his existence a living hell.

 

He pushes through the crowds of fleeing students and smiles as his eyes land on the tail end of his pale blue jeep. Practically vibrating with excitement, he throws his backpack into the seat and shuts the door behind him. He cannot express how majorly it sucked riding in the backseat of Scott’s mom’s car while Allison and Scott made small talk. Understandably, there was a lot of bad blood there and they still had a lot to talk about. Sure, Allison did actually break up with him and then express how much of a mistake that was and wanted him back. But couldn’t tell Scott that because her dad would be pissed, so, she told Stiles all of this instead and made him swear on his life not to tell his best friend.

 

Yeah, that didn’t make those car rides awkward at all.

 

But no more! Now he had his trusty jeep back, Allison and Scott were talking again, like they used too. Plus, no more secrets from his dad. Allison’s dad seemed _kind of_ OK with his daughter and Scott hanging out too now. It was still incredibly tense of course. Whenever Scott went over to their house Mr. Argent watched them, like you would expect an overprotective father with a wall of guns and an ingrained dislike of werewolves would. 

 

The icing on this particularly tasty cake of a day? Derek had been out of town since that thing in the woods.

 

Whatever that was.

 

He’d gone over the whole incident with Scott several times. He wasn’t obsessing - OK he was obsessing. But only because it made literally no sense to him, and Scott didn’t understand it either. He seemed to have some ideas, but he said he’d half to talk to someone who knew more about werewolf stuff. The only people they knew who knew more than them was: Derek, Mr. Argent and Deaton.

 

Two of them were out of town, and no way Scott was asking Argent. Stiles was curious, so curious it kept him up at night and made him bite all of his nails off to the point of bleeding. But still, he would never suggest Scott ask Argent about it. He’s a dick, but he’s not evil.

 

So he’s perfectly fine with waiting. Driving home with the window down, singing a stupid song really loudly and enjoying the heat of Summer tickling his bare arms. His favorite red plaid over shirt blowing in the cool breeze, he takes back roads, the long way home. Enjoying every second of his newfound freedom.

 

He does wonder how Lydia and Jackson are coping. He knows Lydia has been keeping in close touch with Allison, and she’s sent Stiles a few texts and even called once. Mostly, she had questions. She still wasn’t sure what was wrong with her; she was immune, but what else? Stiles has gone through books with her over the phone, suggested good sites for her to research and she was grateful.

 

He wondered exactly when he stopped loving her.

 

That’s not totally accurate, because he still loves her, but he isn’t  _in love_  with her anymore. Maybe it happened when he watched her fall apart as Jackson died. How he came back and they hugged like they couldn’t breathe without being in each other’s arms. 

 

He wanted that, desperately, to belong with someone, to be in love. Maybe he never really was in love with her? However, he knows his life would never be right without her in it and it surprises nobody more than him, that he is actually content with just being her _friend_.

 

Jackson is a werewolf now, and Derek had somehow suckered him into his pack. Stiles knew that had a lot to do with Lydia nagging her boyfriend into it. He needed the help, the stability of a pack, especially now that Scott and Derek were reaching a neutral  _kind of_  alliance. It came down to, Scott couldn’t be an omega forever, and Derek was a shitty alpha without Scott’s help. 

 

Isaac had bonded easily with Scott, more than he did with Derek. Erica and Boyd were warming up to him Scott too. Derek didn’t like that at first, but his betas whined him into submission eventually. The fact that Allison apologized to him, and that Scott did too; helped with washing away some of the issues between the packs, and the Argents.

 

Allison and her dad were still messed up after her mom’s death, and finding out that Gerard was the one that arranged her death and Derek was just unlucky enough to be the tool used, well. That shocked most everyone; except Stiles. Allison and her dad seemed to be the only decent ones in left in their family. As he takes the last turn toward his house he breathes out a sigh of relief. His house is totally fine, his dad is home and no one has died in over two weeks now.

 

Things are finally looking up.

 

\--

 

Why is the fact that,  _nothing good lasts_ , actually true? Why did this, have to be Stiles’ life?

 

Everything was good, awesome actually. Lydia was now his actual friend and he wasn’t awkward around her anymore. Scott and him had spent a sickeningly amount of time together in the past week, and his dad wasn’t as suffocating-protective anymore. For almost two weeks of Summer, no deaths, no supernatural baddies and no researching Wikipedia’s darkest corners for information about some freakish monster trying to kill his friends.

 

And now he comes home to find this? A bloody dying alpha werewolf passed out in his bed?

 

At least he had the decency to pull this shit while his dad was out of the house, supervising a teenage bonfire party.  Stiles was actually on his way there to meet everyone when he realized he had forgotten to turn off the stove and had to head back home. He’d heard some moaning sounds upstairs and pulled his gun to go look and now he’s staring at the bloodiest Derek he’s ever seen. Considering how much the guy fights, and how often Stiles has been unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s saying something.

 

“Derek, are you dead?”

 

He kind of hopes he is, but at the same time wants to rush over and help him.  _What is wrong with me?_ All Derek has ever done is yell at him, throw him around and generally humiliate and or harass him both verbally and physically. Stiles couldn’t even count the number of times he’s threatened to end his existence, usually by saying he'd rip his throat out.  _With his teeth._

 

And now? Stiles, the human has to help Derek, the asshole werewolf. _Again_.

 

“Sti-les?”

 

“Oh, you are alive.” He puts his gun on his desk and pulls out his cell phone. “I’ll get Scott over here, hold on.”

 

“No!” His voice is weak, but still stern enough to stop Stiles’ fingers from dialing.

 

“Why the hell not?”

 

“Just don’t call him.”

 

“I need a reason, Derek. He has werewolf mojo, not me. He can actually fucking help.”

 

“I said no.” He raises his body until his back is pushed into Stiles’ headboard. He looks sick and uncomfortable. The whole room smells like blood and Derek’s lips are so chapped and bloody that Stiles kind of gags.

 

“OK, just- what do you expect me to do then? Call Boyd? I can get the betas over here.” He searches Derek’s face, deciding to stare until the alpha says something. He breathes several times first, his breathing is shallow and painful sounding.

 

“Not, yet.”

 

“Then  _what_? What happened, and why for craps’ sake did you come here?”

 

“You can help me.” Stiles, gapes and it is probably incredibly unattractive, but he can’t do anything else right now. “You’re the only one that can.” 

 

A few minutes of silence passes and Stiles thinks, and paces, and thinks. He wants to yell, but that would be useless. 

 

“Just, get over here.” Derek whispers.

 

He clears his throat and urges Stiles with his eyebrows. He can’t move, feet planted in the center of his floor; bloody outcomes swirling through his head. _Why did he come here, what is he planning? Is he going to rip my heart out and eat it for strength?_ Derek growls lowly. Effectively startling Stiles into moving toward the bed, and before he knows it he’s at the edge. Close enough to smell Derek’s blood, thick and harsh, in the back of his throat.

 

“For God’s sake.” Derek rolls his eyes and leans over enough to grab a handful of Stiles’ shirt.

 

“What the hell!?” He falls into the bed, flailing limbs and curses erupting from his mouth. His head finds Derek’s chest and he tries to move away, but the alpha has a death-grip around the back of his neck.

 

“Please stop.” Derek’s pleading voice makes him still.

 

His brain cannot process what’s happening right now. He’s sure if he survives the night that he’ll have days, possibly weeks of obsessing over this moment. The heat of Derek’s bloody body slows his racing thoughts.

 

The calm sound of his heart, the rhythm of his chest moving up and down. Stiles’ head moving with his chest. He can barely hear the alpha's heart beating and wonders if he’s going to die. And really, really wonders why he’s being aggressively cuddled by an alpha werewolf who has threatened to rip out his throat at least twelve times in the past two months.

 

_Seriously, what is my life right now?_

 

“So, is this a pack thing or what?” Stiles can’t help it, he has to fill the silence. “Because Scott has done this to me before. I mean, before he was a wolf, once and then a lot after. He said he wanted to be close like he sits super close to me when we play games or watch a movie too. It’s cute but also kind of weird. Not that I don’t enjoy it, but I did want to know if it was a werewolf thing or not.” Stiles blinks several times and waits. Derek doesn’t say anything, which isn’t surprising. It’s usually pretty normal, but in this context, he is confused by the lack of yelling.

 

He hazards a glance up, which is hard since his head is being cupped by Derek’s giant hands. His face squashed into Derek’s peck. He feels the wolf's’ heart beating softly under the skin; the rise and fall of his chest still moves him every few seconds.

 

_He’s clearly alive, maybe he’s just ignoring me._

 

Again, not a surprising action. The grip of his hand loosens marginally and Stiles takes the opportunity to wiggle his legs onto the bed the rest of the way. He shifts his torso as much as he can without straining his neck until his body is tucked in next to Derek’s. His feet are still covered with his sneakers and he notices Derek is wearing his jacket and shoes too. 

 

He contemplates trying to wriggle out of the wolf’s grip to get more comfortable. He also contemplates escape, but surprisingly decides against that. Derek would find him and or die in his bed while he was gone. Both outcomes would be bad.

 

He listens to the sound of gently breathing and relaxes under the alpha’s hand. Derek’s other hand is resting awkwardly at his side. His fingers look pretty screwed up; swollen and his thumb looks broken. He can’t see anything above Derek’s neck if he really tries he can see his jaw, but it strains his eyes. He looks back down and stares at Derek’s shirt, at one point of the day it was probably a nice bleached white. Parts of it still are, but at least 70% of it is covered in dirt and blood.

 

His jacket is torn in some places, but mostly intact. From what he saw of the wolf’s face when he first entered the room, he may have a broken nose too. Maybe some teeth missing, either that or he covered his jaw in blood by ripping out somebody’s throat. Stiles has seen him do that, so it isn’t an impossibility. He shifts a little more until his hands are out from under him. He tucks his arms up, putting his hands under his head and letting his elbows rest in the crook of Derek’s waist. The alpha doesn’t make any effort to move away, so he assumes this is fine. 

 

_Because this makes sense right?_

 

Totally, it’s completely normal. It’s not like Stiles has ever had a real conversation with Derek, or that he’s never almost died at his hands or anything. No, never. It is not like Derek’s only friends are three epically disturbed teenagers that have bullied Stiles and his friends over the last few months.

 

Albeit they did kind of apologize. Well, Boyd did, but Erica said something about her being a badass bitch who didn’t need to apologize for anything. Especially since Stiles liked the abuse. Which, is totally ridiculous. In no version of the universe would Stiles enjoy being hit in the head with car parts, especially ones off his own jeep. Isaac said, ‘ _sorry about Lydia_ ’, and that was it. Scott seemed to think that was enough, but Stiles wasn’t sure he could trust that curly haired little shit. He was full of snark and violence. Too much like Stiles for Stiles to like.

 

Cuddling with Derek Hale. It’s amazing and warm, it smells bad but other than that totally fine. Also mind-blowingly weird, but Stiles thinks he can get past that, as long as no one sees what’s happening to his dick. Derek must be unconscious, otherwise, this would not be happening.  _Why did he say I was the only one that could help him?_

 

_He hates my guts, doesn’t he?_

 

Stiles breathes carefully, letting logic take over. Remembering that article, he read about pack healing. Wolves take care of their pack when they are sick are injured, they bring them food and cuddle. TLC all around until the wolf is healed. From what he’d seen, werewolves do all of that too. The betas totally puppy-piled when Erica and Boyd were returned by that creepy British guy, Deucalion.

 

His pack was just passing through and he found Erica and Boyd running from hunters and helped them out. Scott thought it was really cool and sweet of them to help. Stiles thought it was suspicious because he is cynical and doesn’t trust strange smiling dudes with red eyes and the potential to become big furry monster-wolves.

 

He blames Peter for that.

 

It could also be Lon Chaney’s fault.

 

Either way, he doesn’t think they’ve seen the last of that guy, but Derek insisted that he was friends with his parents and that his pack aren’t in fact evil like Stiles thought. He’d maintain his suspicions regardless. After that whole Derek trusting Peter while he was super evil and crazy thing, and Scott working with Gerard, he really doesn’t trust either of their judgment at this point. At least Allison agreed that Deucalion was creepy. Lydia thought he was hot, and Jackson fucking agreed with her, which disturbs Stiles to his very core.

 

Derek must be using Stiles for healing. How, or why, he has no idea but it’s the only thing that makes a sliver of sense. Of course, he could have done this with his pack, and it would probably be a lot easier and faster that way since there are three of them.

 

_Why me?_

 

Stiles relaxes his body and let’s sleep take him. It’s the only thing he can do given that Derek somehow maintains his death-grip on Stiles’ neck, while unconscious.

 

\--

 

“Stiles?” A door shuts loudly downstairs. Stiles’ eyes are crusted shut; his head fuzzy and moving slowly to break free from sleeps grip.

 

_Shouldn’t it be Derek’s grip?_

 

Stiles’ head shoots up and looks around. Derek’s gone, his sheets are bloody and everything smells. His neck is stiff like he hasn’t moved in hours.

 

“Dad?” He moans. Moving to turn over, he sucks in the drool from the corner of his lips. “Shit.” He hears his dad coming down the hall and flails out of bed. He lands on his ass and groans loudly.

 

“Stiles are you OK!?”

 

His door is shut for some reason, but he’s glad because then his dad would walk in to see his blood-soaked bed. He suddenly wants no one to know what happened last night. Ever. Probably because he has no idea what happened last night.

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine dad!” He rushes to his feet and nearly brains himself on his nightstand. “Seriously, don’t come in here!”

 

“Why not?” His father’s voice is stern, warning.

 

“Ugh, just indecent right now, hang on.”

 

“You weren’t at the bonfire. Everyone was worried for a while, and then you sent Scott that message that you didn’t feel well- what happened?”

 

_He didn’t send a text. Must have been Derek._

 

“Uh yeah, I just wanted to go to bed.” Stiles gets to his dresser, after tugging on a non-bloody shirt he grabs a quilted blanket to throw over his blood-soaked sheets. 

 

“Stiles, will you open up?” His dad asks impatiently.

 

“Yeah.” He heads for the door and lets out a big exhale before opening the door.

 

“It smells terrible in there." His dad gestures to Stiles room and he leans forward, keeping the door mostly closed. "It's really stale, open a window or something.” His dad taps his shoulder with his fist and Stiles smiles back. “You want something to eat, or are you still feeling sick?”

 

“I’m OK, really. I think I just needed the rest.”

 

His dad nods. “Alright, well come down when you’re ready, I’d like to talk a little before I head to work.”

 

“OK, sure.” As soon as his dad is on the stairs he frantically searches the room for his phone. He finds it on the bedside table, not where he left it.

 

He sent a text to his dad, and Scott, well, Derek did actually. Covering their tracks, probably to hide the cuddle session from his pack. Stiles doesn’t want them to know either, but he does want to know why that even happened in the first place.

 

Why would he turn to Stiles for help, when he has literally said multiple times that he doesn’t trust him? He clearly does. Why else would he allow Stiles to be around him when he was in such bad shape. Not to mention the fact that he fucking cuddled with him. In his bed.

 

_What the hell?_

 

Stiles sends a text, a few actually. Telling Scott, he needs to see him in the preserve,  _during the day this time_. He agrees and then Stiles angrily types a text to Derek.

 

**_To_ ** _: Derek_

**_From_ ** _: Stiles_

_WE NEED TO TALK DEREK._

 

He waits for two minutes and gets nothing in return. Scott asks him in a text if he’s on his way to the preserve and he rushes downstairs. He eats with his dad and leaves before him, heading straight for the woods.

 

\--

 

It is a fast drive to the preserve, he takes the main road and its Sunday so there’s not a lot of traffic. The best lake for swimming is clear across town, so everyone is either there, or barbecuing in their backyards. 

 

The sun is high in the sky, and the cool air of May is fading fast. Summer is coming back with a vengeance if the weather forecasts coming over the radio are anything to go by. Stiles ignores the droning of the engine and focuses on what to tell Scott.

 

They made a pact after the whole, Kanima-Gerard thing. _No more secrets._

 

Stiles was so pissed about Scott forming his epic _master plan_ behind his back, Scott bought him tacos and apologized for a week. Then Stiles forgave him and they made that oath to each other. Two nights ago, Allison and Scott had kissed again for the first time in weeks, and Stiles was the first one he told. It was huge. Not just because he loved Allison, but because Scott was finally getting along with Mr. Argent and he actually said it was OK that they date again.

 

Everyone was getting better at communicating, except for Derek. He talked to Scott, and Stiles knew they had pack meetings and that Derek was warming up to his friend. But he still never let Stiles in on any of the pack stuff. It was infuriating considering just how much Stiles had done for the bastard, not to mention his little betas too. He’d saved them so many times now, you’d think he’d earned some semblance of respect, or gratitude maybe.

 

_But no._

 

Now he had to go into the preserve to let off some steam, and of course, confess. Scott had to know, and hopefully, he knew something about what it all meant. He just wanted his friend to tell him it meant nothing. That Derek was just being creepy and weird like usual and it had nothing to worry about. The alternative was that he’d be obsessing over this until Derek explained it all to him. Which knowing Derek, he never would.

 

Stiles couldn’t stop thinking about it, how he said,  _you’re the only one that can help_.

 

His eyes were so vulnerable, his voice weak like Stiles had never heard it before. It didn’t make any sense. Sure Stiles had some skills now, fighting particularly and guns, but he was no match for Derek’s skills. And he’d admit to being the research king, but other than that he had no advantage over the alpha. How could he help him, where his betas couldn’t? Where Scott couldn’t?

 

He’s the most confusing, infuriatingly attractive bastard on the planet and Stiles can’t stop thinking about how he looked that night in the woods. So desperate, hungry. How he stares at Stiles’ lips, leaned into his body, stole all the warmth from him. Not to mention the fact that he was stark naked and Stiles did not look down once because despite popular belief he did value his life. He had to find out what the hell the alpha was planning. Was he toying with him? Was he crazy? Was it just a weird alpha thing or something else? Something dangerous?

 

He pulls into the preserve’s parking lot and stares at his phone. Scott says to meet him in the ‘same place as always’. Which is the center of the wilderness near the small brook. He can’t wait to talk to his friend. Not just about the weirdness with Derek, but to actually train some of this stress away. He knew he wasn’t the most coordinated person in the world and that’s an understatement. But he was getting damn good. What he lacked in grace and strength, he made up for in speed and quick thinking.

 

He turns over the jeep’s sputtering engine and hops out of the car. The golden leaves rustle underfoot; the color of the woods fading from a cold but colorful orange to varying shades of green. The bases of the thin trees rich and brown and the sky is a luminous blue full of fluffy white clouds. He smiles at the sun shining down at him and heads for the depths of the preserve to meet Scott. Hoping he either has answers or is willing to help him find some. He has to know if Derek’s sick or crazy.

 

He has to know what’s going on before whatever it is comes around to bite him in the ass.

 

 


	2. Dazed and Abused

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He puts the phone on the nightstand, behind Stiles’ sleeping figure. He has curled into the space that Derek was occupying. Trying to steal all the warmth from the sheets. Derek wants more than anything to crawl back into that blood crusted bed and make Stiles his. His eyes flash red and he wonders if he can control himself. 
> 
> What if I stay? What if I hurt him? 
> 
> What if I do to him what Kate did to me?

He tugs away from sleep, struggling to orientate himself. The smells here are so different. Nothing burnt or mildewed. Clean and fresh, and full of gunpowder and strong deodorant. He can’t say it smells like home, but it’s a place he wouldn’t mind staying in for a bit longer.

 

It’s pitch black and warm and he can’t be bothered to use logic. He lets his aching eyes close again, the sweet grasp of sleep overtaking him once more.

 

\--

 

He had worked so hard to be here. Did all his chores, followed all of his mother’s painstaking rules and addendums so that he could skip the family reunion for the wolf moon and play basketball. Like a normal teenager for once. Laura had to go with him, to supervise of course.

 

He actually won the game and he remembered that elation, so high, so victorious. His teammates picked him up and the crowd was cheering his name. He could see Laura’s wide grin from the sidelines, her voice carried over all the others. Eyes the mirrors to his own, and the smell of happiness in her skin.

 

Then everything fell apart.

 

It was as if the earth shook. Someone had reached in his chest and carved out a hole. Then another, then another. The pack bonds, their tethers inside their chests that lead to the members of the pack. So many severed in a matter of seconds; his pack was gone, ripped out of his chest.

 

His face fell, Laura had almost fallen down. Derek actually did, right to the floor, wind knocked out of his ribs. His team mates were terrified that they had injured him, but he couldn’t reassure them. His breath waning, his heart pounding.

Laura waded through the crowd surrounding him, pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the gymnasium. Down the bare halls of the school and into an empty classroom. They cried together, for what seemed like hours. Laura held his head to her chest, stroking his neck. Her tears hitting his skull, his sobs surely ringing in her ears.

 

The nightmare continued, to the edges of the woods. Flames ragged on, covering the pale night sky in plumes of black clouds. He would never forget the heat. He was twelve feet from the porch and the flames’ fury still licked his skin.

 

The lights of several patrol cars and a firetruck danced in their eyes as they watched them attempt to quench the fire. But it was too late. Laura held his hand and turned her head to look at her little brother.

 

Her eyes were crimson, glowing like blood.

 

“This is all your fault.”

 

\--

 

His eyes break open, body covered in cold sweat and barely able to breathe.

 

_You’re awake._

 

It was a nightmare and a memory. He had told her the truth, about Kate, about his idiotic lovesick conversations with the hunter. He blamed himself, but Laura never did. He’d only wished that Laura was the one, that she’d gotten to kill Kate. Or at the very least, she could have lived.

He could forgive his uncle, because he knew, that that’s what Laura would have done. He wasn’t as good as her, he was never meant to be a leader. But he would do whatever it took to honor her and his packs memory. If that meant listening to his betas, trying to treat them how his family did? Then that’s what he had to do.

 

He wished he’d listened to Laura’s voice sooner. She was always with him, in his head, in his chest. Didn’t matter that she would never hug him again, flick his ears when he was being stupid. That he’d never hear her laugh, or run with her again. She was still here, as long as he believed that. He could do this.

 

He wipes his tears away with his free hand, suddenly remembering where he is. He watches Stiles’ nose pinch and expand with silent breathes. His chest pushes in and out against Derek’s side, and he looks peaceful.

 

He doesn’t want to go, in fact his body aches to draw Stiles closer. To rub his head, sniff his skin and cradle his jaw; but he knows that it would be selfish. Stiles doesn’t want this, doesn’t want him. They can be allies, maybe one day friends, but never what Derek wants them to be.

 

It’s wrong for him to feel this way, and yet it feels right. He wishes his mom were here to tell him how to deal with this.

 

Derek moves his fingers, clenching and unclenching his left hand. He’s healed very quickly thanks to Stiles. His pack would have speed up the process a lot more, but he didn’t want them to see him this way. He’d gone off halfcocked, pissed off to a bad part of town.  He was frustrated by his betas, by his feelings. By the fact that Erica and Boyd had run off because he sucked as an alpha.

 

He needed to let off some steam.

 

And as always, he made the wrong decision. He drank wolfs bane laced beer and got a little drunk, then stumbled onto some gangster wannabes. Maybe he was looking for a fight, maybe he just wanted to have some fun. There were six of them, and Derek got his ass kicked.

 

He ran to Stiles, knowing Scott would want to find out who did this to him; then he’d have to tell him. Peter would never let him live it down if he knew and the betas would think less of him, again. Stiles was the only one he knew wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t push to find out what happened if Derek asked him not too.

 

Besides, he wanted to see him anyway. Just to see him, smell him, maybe touch him. But he could restrain himself, and he did. Yes, he cuddled him, like a wolf does with his pack, but, that’s not so strange given the circumstances. Stiles knows a lot about werewolves, he knew that he would figure it was a healing thing.

 

And it was, mostly. Derek rubs a hand over his face. Raking his stubble with dull fingernails and staring at the ceiling. He sighs at himself before carefully detaching himself from Stiles’ grip. He reaches for the end table for stability, his body still achy and sore. He takes his time getting around the room to Stiles’ desk and grabs his phone. The least he can do is make sure he doesn’t get into trouble with his father, or Scott.

 

He sends texts to both of them, claiming that Stiles isn’t feeling well and wants to sleep. Not to worry, that he’ll be fine.

 

He puts the phone on the nightstand, behind Stiles’ sleeping figure. He has curled into the space that Derek was occupying. Trying to steal all the warmth from the sheets. Derek wants more than anything to crawl back into that blood crusted bed and make Stiles his. His eyes flash red and he wonders if he can control himself.

 

_What if I stay? What if I hurt him? What if I do to him what Kate did to me?_

 

He closes his eyes and breathes out slowly. His eyes open and he knows they’re human again. He stalks toward the bedroom window, and starts to leave the way he came in.

 

Before dragging himself totally out of the windowsill and out onto the roof, he glances back. Stiles’ body moves, rolls over and pushes himself into a position until he’s on his stomach. His shirt rides up and soft freckled skin peeks out at Derek. He pushes down the growl that slithers up his throat. He turns his head away and steels himself against the cold of the dawn, seeing the sun rising slowly over the clouds in the distance.

 

_I can control myself when I am around him. I will not pursue him._

 

He closes the window quietly behind him and leaps from the roof.

 

\--

 

“So, you and the young Stilinski?” Peter drawls.

 

Derek’s head snaps in his direction, his eyes narrowing at his uncle’s calm expression. He looks so relaxed on the old velvet couch, a book in his hand. It makes Derek think of the old days, before the fire. Before Peter had lost his mind to vengeance.

 

He’s been, better. But he still isn’t Uncle Peter. Derek hopes, deep, deep down, that someday he will look at him and not see Laura’s dead body. That someday he’ll forgive him, and they’ll be a family again.

 

For now, though, he still kind of hates his guts.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Just that you smell an awful lot like Stiles.” He flips a page in his book.

“And you’re familiar with Stiles’ scent are you?” He can’t help the tinge of danger in his voice.

 

Lately, it’s been annoyingly hard to control himself around Stiles. Especially since that night he snuck into his room and forced him to shelter him while he healed. He had always found him attractive, and not just physically. But he could always hear Kate laughing in his head when he thought about acting on his feelings for Stiles.

 

He knew Stiles was sexually attracted to him, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t trust Derek, he probably never would. And it was best that way. No one could get hurt if nothing ever happened; his uncle smirks.

 

 _He’s pushing me for a reaction_. _Obviously he knows I’m not stupid, I won’t do anything to him._

 

“Very.” Is all his uncle replies and it makes Derek’s jaw tighten, his red eyes flash.

 

 _What the hell is this?_ He moves away from his position near the windows and walks toward the center of the living room. The house is still in ruins for the most part and the outside looked, _hideous and dead_ as Peter put it. But they were rebuilding. The inside was nearly finished, decorated in deep greens and blues. His mother’s favorite colors. Pictures of their family are scattered about, and Peter insisted it stay that way.

 

He had been very determined to rebuild the family home. Suspiciously so.

 

“Why are you doing that?” Derek asks, a harshness to his voice.

 

“Whatever do you mean?” His uncle is the picture of innocence.

 

“You’re trying to piss me off.”

 

“Not at all. I just wondered how your courtship was going.” Peter, looks back down at his book, missing the horrified look of confusion on Derek’s face.

 

“What-the hell?” Derek shakes his head. “I’m not- I am not _courting_ him. Or anyone. That’s ridiculous.”

 

Peter peers back up at him. “Hm.” He looks back down, flipping a page of a book he is _clearly_ pretending to read.

 

“Stop. That.”

 

“Again, Derek, what do you mean?” He looks up again, his deep blue eyes feigning confusion. “You should really use your words nephew. Otherwise no one will understand you.”

 

Derek narrows his eyes, lunging forward to snatch the book from his uncle’s fingers. Peter is up in a second flat, inches from Derek’s face. Body upright and challenging, reflecting Derek’s anger in his own eyes.

 

“He will never understand you if you don’t speak to him.” His voice is sharp.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Derek matches his dangerous tone, his teeth grinding together; barely holding back the instinct to tear out his uncle’s throat. _Again._

 

Derek doesn’t dare break eye contact, though he desperately wants to run away from this conversation. Turning his back, fleeing from this challenge would mean submission. He’s the alpha now, _not Peter_.

 

“Every time you get near him your skin heats up. Heart starts pumping faster and your body aches to be closer to his. You can’t stop dreaming about him, smelling him, touching him every chance you get. Am I right?”  Derek feels his eyes widen marginally. “Of course I am. He’s your _mate_ Derek. You can deny it all you want, push the thoughts aside and ignore him. Even push him away. But it won’t matter. Every full moon, every time you shift, your body calls for his.”

 

Peter lowers his eyes and bares his throat, submission to his alpha. Derek lunges in to sniff his neck, before stepping back and allowing his uncle to sit down.

 

His uncle sighs deeply. “You and him, it’s inevitable.”

 

“That’s not true. Mating is a choice, sure it’s hard to disobey the instincts, but it’s not destiny.” Derek argues.

 

“That is accurate, but you’re forgetting something.”

 

Derek rolls his eyes. “What?”

 

“You’re an alpha.” Peter reaches down to pick up his fallen book, sitting back down and resuming his lounging position. “All of your instincts are heightened, more so than any other wolf. It will be at least ten times harder for you to resist the instinct to mate with him.”

 

Derek swallows and steps back. He paces for a few seconds and heads towards the windows again. Staring toward the dark expanse of the preserve through the clean new window panes.

“What do I do?”

 

“What do you want?” Derek half turns to glare at his uncle again. “It’s your decision _and_ his Derek. You must decide if you want him, or if it’s simply instinctual.”

 

“I- I don’t know.”

 

“I think you do.”

 

Derek looks out the windows again, in time to see Boyd’s mom’s SUV roll up and park next to his Camaro. He watches Boyd leave the driver’s seat, Erica was sitting upfront and Isaac in the back behind Boyd. They all head for the front door and Derek turns to his uncle.

 

“I need more time- it’s not an easy decision.” He softens his eyes. “You won’t say anything to them, or…”

 

“Of course not.”

 

His uncle’s eyes don’t leave his book, and Derek has no choice but to believe him. He feels a lingering sense of paranoia, which he quashes as the betas enter the house.

 

“Derek?” Erica whines as she enters the living room and Derek’s face is tight.

 

She’s so loud and confident now, brazen and blunt. So brave, and young and dangerous and it’s painful sometimes, just how much she reminds him of Laura.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Isaac won’t share his food with me or Boyd. He’s being greedy.” She huffs and plops down on the sofa across from Peter.

 

Isaac walks in behind her, all limbs and dark clothes. He’s really taken to being a wolf. He’s still full of anger, but Derek has been helping him. Slowly but surely, he’s mended a lot of the mistakes he’s made with them in the early months of them being a pack.

 

Boyd had taken to the change the easiest of the three. Strong and smart, resilient and commanding. He was born to lead. Derek couldn’t ask for a better second. Isaac is snarky and smart. Full of violence, but he cares too, for his pack most of all. He watches the teenager lean against the doorframe to the living area and smirk. He shoves part of a burrito in his mouth and waggles his eyebrows at Erica. She glares back and growls lowly.

 

“Erica.” She turns her head toward her alpha. “Go grab the takeout menus and order whatever you want for you and Boyd.” He nods toward the kitchen and her eyes light up. She grins and saunters past Isaac, Boyd smirks at her back, following her lead.

 

The curly haired beta makes an annoyed face and stalks toward the nearest couch. He makes himself comfortable and keeps eating from the greasy bag of Mexican takeout in his lap. Derek knows he orders at least three burritos and five tacos every time he goes to that little restaurant near Scott’s place. He smells like Scott and Derek eyes him with interest.

 

Isaac catches him and lowers his eyes. “What’d I do?”

 

“Nothing.” Derek uncrosses his arms and heads past the couch, touching Isaac’s shoulder on his way. “Don’t stay up to late. We have training tomorrow.”

 

His fingers still and his eyes never meet Derek’s but he leans into Derek’s touch marginally and nods. He takes that as a win.

 

\--

 

“Shit!” Isaac shouts.

 

Derek ducks under a blade and slashes backwards, catching the hunter in the ribs. He kicks him into a wall and spins around to watch Isaac fall. He has a massive wound across his chest and his eyes are wide as the hunter above him readies his pistol for a shot at his head.

 

Derek knows he won’t get there in time, so he picks up the machete the other hunter dropped and throws it. It lands in the hunter’s leg and he shouts in pain. Scott comes out of nowhere, leaping at the hunter’s back and taking him to the ground. He slashes the guy’s back open and he stays down.

 

Derek’s head cocks to the right, seeing Erica kicking ass, and Boyd throwing one of the hunter’s dogs across the clearing and into a tree. Stiles yells and Derek watches him on the ground crawling towards his gun. Scott screams his name, another dog is charging, drool swinging around his hungry jaws. Aiming right for Stiles.

 

Derek doesn’t know how, but he moves, leaps and hurdles himself across the wide space. He makes it in time, his body in front of Stiles, the dog’s jaws over his arm. He roars into the animal’s face and he pulls away, turning around and fleeing at the sight of the greater predator.

 

The hunters are all down, a few with arrows in their legs, Allison jogs into the clearing, bow at the ready and quiver nearly empty. Isaac peers at her with a grateful look and Scott hugs her. Her eyes meet Derek’s and he nods tersely.

 

Erica runs toward Derek and checks his arm. “I’m fine Erica.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“It was just a dog.” Derek lets her help him up and he turns around to see Stiles using the tree for support.

 

He smells his pain and lurches forward, his hands swimming over his arms and chest checking for wounds.

 

“Woah! Dude hands off.” He slaps Derek’s hands away and laughs nervously. “I’m not dying or anything, chill.”

 

“Stiles are you OK?” Scott’s by his side in seconds, his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

 

Derek’s jaw tightens and he looks away. Hearing Stiles repeat that _both alphas are being stupid and paranoid. Scott isn’t even an alpha, not technically_. Derek wants more than anything for Stiles to join his pack. His eyes glare at the ground and he wonders when that happened.

 

When he decided that he trusted Stiles enough to think of him as pack. _This mate thing gets more annoying and confusing every day._

 

“Guys?”

 

Boyd turns around first and Derek watches his body stiffen. He moves past Erica defensively and watches Jackson wobble into the clearing. One hand on a tree base and the other clutching his stomach.

“I think I’m dying.” He chuckles before falling to the ground.

 

\--

 

It takes three days for Jackson’s health to improve. They removed the wolfs bane poison as soon as they got to the animal clinic. Deaton was gone, still out of town, but Scott had keys and Stiles knew how to prepare some of the herbs for curing the poison. Derek was going to burn it out, it would have worked he was sure, but Scott protested saying that they could do it without all the extra pain.

 

The healing process was slow and required a lot of pack piling. Jackson hated every second of it.  

 

Now all his betas are scattered about the house, helping with the rebuilding of the outside. The inside of the Hale house was now totally refurbished, but the exterior still needed a lot of work. Boyd helped with the front porch, Isaac handing him tools and helping nail down new boards for the steps. Erica painted the sides and Jackson helped Derek put in new bricks at the house’s foundation.

 

Peter had tended to the basement, clearing out the rubble at the basement’s escape tunnel and replacing the doors and hinges. Derek wanted Isaac to help him, since he had more experience operating the loader and the doors would be hard to put on alone. But Peter said he would be fine, he wanted to do it alone.

 

Derek understood.

 

Scott came by later on. Stiles in tow. Derek ached at the sight of him, he hadn’t had a chance to talk to him since his talk with Peter. He wanted to make sure there was no chance for them.

 

The way Stiles was avoiding his gaze, looking everywhere but at Derek’s tank top wearing form, and he figured his chances were slim to none. Maybe one day he’d meet somebody else? Maybe someday he’d get over Kate and what she did and actually have a healthy relationship with someone.

 

_Yeah right._

 

\--

 

It’s many awkward glances later and Stiles is leaving.

 

The pack had made him and Scott stay for food, and they had a lot of fun. The house was full of laughter and teasing and _family_. Peter said, _it’s been so long,_ and Derek knew. This is what would change his uncle. He wanted to rebuild the house, to rebuild himself.

 

Derek wanted to do the same, but he felt like the pack, these four teens, they were his redemption. He’d never be who he was again, and neither would Peter, but at least they could find some semblance of happiness for now. Something to live for again.

 

He watches Stiles linger in the doorway, Scott getting a list of songs to listen to from Isaac, and a hug. Boyd gives him a fist bump, and Stiles too. Erica squeezes them both and tells them they better come back soon.

 

“You’re not so bad McCall. And Stilinski is, OK, I guess.” Is all the duo gets from Jackson.

 

Derek makes his way toward the huddle by the door, as the betas are heading off to their rooms upstairs. Scott watches them go and gives Derek a smile; he’s about to say it was nice having them when he catches Stiles eyes and he turns away. His back retreating towards his jeep.

 

Scott looks at Derek with a confused expression, “Sorry, I guess he wants to head home. Uh, thanks Derek, for having us. I know Stiles had a great time, and I’ll be back tomorrow morning for that pack meeting OK?”

 

He feels himself nod and Scott even shouts a goodbye to Peter before rushing off after Stiles. The taller teen already in his jeep, engine running. Derek can’t see his eyes from this distance, but he’s sure they aren’t looking at him. He wonders what he did wrong and remembers that he hasn’t done a whole lot that was right. Especially when it came to Stiles.

 

\--

 

He breathes heavily and straightens himself before raising his arm. He taps the door with his fist harshly and wonders what’ll happen when the door opens.

 

 _Will Stiles slam it in his face? Will he tell Derek to leave? Will he even answer?_ He hears Stiles jogging downstairs, he hops off the last step and the door creaks open before him.

 

“Derek?” His face is confused.

 

“I- can I come in? I want to talk to you.” Stiles looks around, as if searching for an exit. “I should have called first.”

 

“No, uh- it’s fine.” He steps back opening the door fully and flailing an arm toward the kitchen. “Come in.”

 

Derek stalks through the door slowly, unsure of what he should say. He wanted to think about this more, but Peter kept ushering him. He needed to make his feelings clear, and it had been years, actual years since he had done that. He has spent so much time closed off and alone, that all of this, whatever this is- it scares him. But Stiles’ scent isn’t scared, nervous and confused, but not scared. He braces himself and looks at Stiles.

 

“Did you want something to drink?” He asks Derek. His hand in his pockets and his leg bouncing; socked feet tapping against the floor.

 

“No.” He looks around and then back at Stiles. “Is your dad going to be home soon?”

 

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Uh, no, he’s busy with a lot of vandalism cases and said he had to stay late at the station. Why?”

 

“I, needed to speak with you alone.”

 

“OK, well that’s not super suspicious at all.” He walks past Derek and heads for the stairs. “I’m up in room, just research and stuff. You can join me.”

 

Derek’s eyes widen and he’s glad Stiles isn’t looking at him. He walks after him and up the stairs. By the time his slow and uneasy body carries him into Stiles room, the teen has settled in at his desk. One leg up, toes dangling off the edge, arm and hand up under his chin, the other wrapped around the computer mouse, clicking occasionally.

 

“So, what’d you want to talk about?” Stiles asks.

 

Derek moves into the room and stares at the bed. “I just needed to tell you something, actually.”

 

“What?”

He knows he needs to just say it. Get it out and make it known that he has no intentions of pursuing his feelings unless Stiles does. Which he knows is a long shot, but if he doesn’t do it he’ll have to add it to his ridiculously long list of regrets.

 

“I like you.”

 

Stiles’ hand stops moving and he doesn’t turn around. Derek wanders to the far side of the room and sits on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

 

“I want you to know, that this isn’t a sudden thing. I’ve been attracted to you for some time, but it was wrong, I just couldn’t do anything about it. And I won’t, ever, unless you decide it’s something you want too.”

 

He waits for Stiles to let him down easy. Or yell, or _anything_. Something. He’s totally silent. Still, and breathing calmly.

 

Derek stands up and heads for the door. “I-I just shouldn’t have come. Sorry.”

 

He rushes down the stairs and back to his car. He starts up the Camaro and waits. His chest heaving, breath ragged and coming out too fast. He waits for his heart to calm down, his eyes to return to human color; then backs out and drives toward home.

 

It was a mistake, but at least he told him. Peter would be annoyed that nothing really happened, but at least he’d said something. He was tired of Stiles thinking he didn’t care, that he didn’t trust him, and now he knows. He knows that Derek doesn’t hate him, in fact he really likes him, which is why he pushed him away. He did it for Stiles. He pushes him away to protect him from himself.

 

Because Derek destroys the people he loves.


	3. Shaking and True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What do you want me to do?” He asks.
> 
> “Show me your room.”

Stiles throws a shoe at his wall. It’s a healthy display of violence really, no damage to anything. His dad will never know. He couldn’t help it after what just happened. Derek expresses a secret love interest for Stiles, to Stiles and then runs away.

 

Fucking typical of him to run, but the secret interest? Stiles really didn’t see that coming.

 

He grabs his phone, chest heaving, heart beating too fast. His hands are shaking and thank fuck he has speed dial because he could not properly dial right now.

 

“Hey Stiles.”

 

“You need to get over here. Right. Now.”

 

“What did I do?” Scott chuckles.

 

“It’s- Derek, just he’s so weird and fucking stupid and confusing and just get over here.”

 

“Yeah of course, uh I’ll just tell Allison we can hang later then?”

 

“No, uh, shit.” Stiles paces the room. “Bring her too. Just get over here.”

 

“OK, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

\--

 

It’s more like ten minutes. And Stiles is practically screaming at this point, well growling and huffing around the house, like _he’s_ a furry creature of the night. Scott’s mom’s car rolls up and he runs to Scott’s door, opening it and ushering him to move faster.

“Come on, get inside.”

 

“OK, Stiles what’s the hurry?”

 

“I- Derek _freaking_ Hale is an idiot and I think, I may like him.”

 

Scott stills and widens his eyes, then smiles. “Finally. OK, Allison?” He turns his head to watch her close the passenger’s door.

 

“Let’s get inside, it’s kind of cold.” She smiles back and Stiles is dumbfounded.

 

“Finally?” He gapes.

 

“Yeah dude, come on.” He grabs his shoulders and pushes Stiles toward the house.

 

Up the stairs and inside he gets Stiles to the kitchen table, Scott makes himself at home. Because it is his second home, he takes off his jacket and puts it on the back of a chair. Stiles sits down, in a quiet daze, mouth still partially open. Allison takes a seat across from him while Scott grabs them a couple of sodas. Stiles doesn’t see him sit down, or place the soda in front of him.

 

“Hey, Stiles?” Scott tries to grab his attention and he slowly turns his head.

 

“What did you mean finally?” He screws up his face at Scott and he laughs. _Laughs._

 

“You’ve always liked him dude. I mean, you didn’t start trusting him until the Kanima stuff, but you always liked him.”

 

Stiles shakes his head and look over at Allison to see her nodding in agreement at her boyfriend. _Everyone knew this?_ Stiles shakes his head again.

 

“OK, so I do, but that’s not…”

 

“It _is_ the point Stiles.” His friend knows him too damn well. He snaps his mouth closed and Scott leans in to grab his shoulder. “If he told you what I think he did, then you can’t just leave it. You have to figure out if you want to actually do something about it. And I know it’s crazy and weird, but the dude needs you, and I know you want to help and that you actually do care about him.”

 

He sees Allison nod out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think he’s ever had a good relationship. Anything, healthy where the other person wasn’t trying to use him for something. And if he has, the things that he did with Kate, ruined any previous relationships he had.”

 

Stiles raises his head and looks at her. “You, knew?”

 

Scott drops his arm. “What do you mean things he did with Kate?”

 

Stiles licks his lips. “How do you think Kate and her arsonist friends knew where the Hales would be that night? How to- get to them all?”

 

Scott furrows his brows. “You don’t mean what I think you mean?” Stiles just nods and Allison purses her lips. “Oh my God. No wonder he hated himself and was such a dick to us.” Scott shakes his head slowly. “I’m so glad we’re not enemies anymore dude, and this just makes me want to see you together even more. You’d be so good for him Stiles.”

 

“Uh- what I’m his savior, the solution to all his fucking problems?”

 

“No Stiles, you’d be his partner. He already treats you like an equal.”

 

“What? Since fucking when?” Stiles glares at Allison.

 

“She’s right. He’s always asking me your opinions on stuff, I mean I’ve said you should come to pack meetings but he says you probably don’t want to, or that you’d get bored. I try to argue, and he was going to last month actually, you know let you come to a meeting?”

 

“Why didn’t he ask then?”

 

Scott shrugs. “I was leaving after it was over and he caught me at the door. Said it wasn’t time yet and we should wait to invite you. I don’t know, but I know he cares about you and I know that he trusts you.”

 

“Well- why doesn’t he say that?” Stiles voice is sharp.

 

“He tried, I think. I mean that’s why he was here right?” Allison suggests.

 

He shakes his head. “Yes, but no. He fucking- he didn’t tell me he trusted me he said he liked me, a LOT and that he wouldn’t pursue it unless I wanted to, and then he ran away when I didn’t say anything.”

 

“You didn’t say anything?”

 

“What was I supposed to say Scott?” He practically yells.

 

“The truth Stiles. I know you don’t want to admit it, but you know and everyone else knows how you feel. Except Derek, because he’s a dumbass and totally oblivious.”

 

This makes something resembling a chuckle, emerge from Stiles’ throat. “OK, yeah, but still I just don’t want to have to be the one to say everything.”

“You don’t have to, just go over there when no one else is there and tell him how you feel and see what he does.” Allison says.

 

“I agree. You guys shouldn’t wait anymore, this- maybe your dad wouldn’t love it, but he and Derek have been getting along lately, and you know how he’s been warming up to Allison too. That’s because of us dude. He wanted to talk to me first, but then he realized how smart and skilled you are. He told me, literally said, that you’d be a great addition to the pack.”

 

“What? When did he-“ Stiles cuts himself off. “OK. Just, I need to think some more, thanks for coming over.” He looks at Allison. “Both of you.”

 

“Anytime Stiles.” She replies.

 

\--

 

He can’t believe this. It’s been two weeks since Derek told him that he liked him. Two weeks of Stiles convincing himself not to do anything about it, and then last night he just gave in.

 

He wants Derek, and not just because of his stupid hot face or tantalizing body. He actually likes him, as a person. Sure he’s a dick, and he needs to use his words more. But he’s been getting better at that, plus, he actually trusts Stiles’ opinions now. Last week Stiles went to his first pack meeting. It was awkward as all hell, but only between him and Derek.

 

The betas didn’t know what happened because Scott is his best friend and didn’t say anything. He was pretty sure that Peter knew, which _did_ freak him out. The guy kept giving him like, knowing smirks and looking him up and down. As if he couldn’t get any creepier.

 

Now Stiles is standing outside of his jeep, body leaning against the driver’s side door, the Hale house a few feet away. It’s dark, and rainy, and he looks up to see the moon is half full and beautifully clear above his head. He looks back at the Hale house, and he wants to run away.

 

The pack is gone; thanks to Scott they are all at his house hanging out. Peter even made himself scarce because Scott asked. Now it’s just Derek.

 

_Derek and Stiles._

The weirdest combination of names he’s probably ever heard in his own head. Why is he doing this again? Oh yeah, because he realized he doesn’t just like this idiot, he may actually be falling in love.

 

He didn’t tell Scott that part because he’s kind of hoping he’s wrong. How can he be in love? He’s so just kidding himself. Plus, Derek, he likes him but that’s it right? It’s not love. But it’s something.

 

Stiles takes a deep breath and makes for the front door. Lush green grass covered in dew pokes through his jeans as he walks. Tickling his calves, he groans at himself and keeps going. He reaches the door in no time and stands there. Shivering from the cold, shaking with nerves. He pulls one arm from his pocket and raises it to the door, but his fist hesitates.

 

The door swings open slowly and Derek stands there, a nice green Henley on, dark jeans and no shoes. He looks so soft and inviting. Stiles’ confidence cracks at the sight of him.

 

“Uh- I shouldn’t have, I should go. “ He turns around and starts back down the stairs.

 

“Stiles, wait.” Derek’s voice makes him stop. He doesn’t turn around. “Why did you come?”

 

“I wanted to, kind of punch you for running off when you confessed all that stuff.” He swallows. “And now I understand why you ran off. This is- hard and crazy and _ridiculous_.”

 

“What is?”

 

“I- fucking like you OK. I always have, and I pretended to hate you because that was way easier. Not to mention I had no idea that you liked me.”

 

Derek is quiet and he can only imagine what his face is doing. He turns around and sees Derek’s eyes are soft, his arms hanging at their sides and his mouth parted. He doesn’t know what his body is thinking, but it moves. Moves toward Derek, like he never has before, slow and without thought. His hand goes for Derek’s shirt, taking a fist full of cotton fabric and pulling him forward.

 

Their mouths meet and it’s incredible. His body is cold and wet and shaking, and Derek’s is a fire. His lips part and Stiles’ tongue fights into his mouth. Derek moans and Stiles pursues the sound, gripping the back of his neck and tilting his head into the kiss.

 

Derek grabs around Stiles’ waist and pulls his body closer. Stiles knows he’s being persistent, adventurous and Derek likes it. The way he moans every time Stiles licks at his lips and invades his mouth with his tongue, says it all. He can’t believe this, can’t believe Derek wants him like this. Wants his mouth, his tongue, his hands.

 

Derek pulls Stiles again and this time he realizes he means to bring him inside. He pulls back from Derek’s inferno of a mouth for a few seconds and Derek breathes on his lips. Heady and gasping.

 

“Come inside, you’re freezing.”

 

“You’re making me warm.” Stiles says quietly, their mouths still hovering close enough that his lips brush over Derek’s when he breathes.

 

“So, let me make you _warmer_.” He pulls Stiles’ body toward him, over the threshold and into the foyer.

 

His legs are shaking, his hands numb. “Yeah OK.” Stiles turns away from Derek’s face for a second and chuckles. At himself, at the situation, doesn’t matter.

“Did you just want to talk?” Derek asks silently, and Stiles sees his face is pensive. Eyebrows together, eyes raking over Stiles. He’s nervous.

 

“Honestly? No. I really just want to kiss you more. But- I think we should talk first.” Derek nods and gestures toward the living room.

 

He takes a seat near the fireplace and Derek lights it. He’s slow to do everything, careful and Stiles just wants to kiss him. His mouth, his neck, his shoulders. He wants to learn every inch of his body with his mouth and tongue and teeth.

 

It’s painful.

 

“What the hell?” Stiles whispers. Derek looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s nothing, just weird feelings.”

 

“Like what exactly?”

 

“Uh.” Stiles rubs his hands together and cups them over his mouth, trying to warm them faster with his breath. “Just, like this aching feeling all over. It’s weird. My stomach is like, on fire.”

 

“You, can feel that?” Derek’s face is complex, not scared but more confused and _excited_?

 

“Yeah, why it’s just my body is tired maybe?”

 

“No, I feel it too.” Derek moves toward Stiles and crouches down in front of him. Stiles’ dick hardens, too many dirty thoughts. “It’s, I wasn’t going to tell you until you were ready but. We’re mates Stiles.”

 

“What? Werewolves mate? Since when?” Stiles shakes his head. “Is it like, destiny or some shit, because I like to have a choice about stuff and that’s…”

 

“No, it’s a choice. Always.”

 

Stiles nods slowly. He’s not himself, his Adderall isn’t working and he’s vibrating with energy. His body aches, not pain or soreness but something else. Like he aches to be with Derek.

 

“This is crazy. Why does it feel like this?”

 

“I don’t know. You shouldn’t be able to feel it.”

 

“What do you mean?” Stiles gapes.

 

“It’s, not normal for a human to feel it. Peter told me it’s a bond. Not just that we are compatible but, that we are meant to mate. I know I said it’s a choice, and it is.”

 

“But, it’ll be really hard to ignore because I feel it too.” Stiles nods and watches Derek do the same. His eyes drop from Stiles’ face and he looks at the floor.

 

Stiles hopes this isn’t a mistake, but his body can’t wait anymore. He rubs his sweaty palms out on his jeans and reaches his left hand forward to grip Derek’s jaw. The alpha turns his head slowly, his eyes meeting Stiles with an emotion he can’t read.

 

“I don’t want to talk now. I can’t. I just need to…” Derek’s red eyes flash and Stiles feels his body shiver.

 

Derek moves first, Stiles’ hand still cupping his jaw he reaches up, his giant hand grabbing Stiles’ lithe fingers. He moves forward, his face hovering near Stiles, body at an odd angle. He stares into his eyes, hands gripping each other’s tight.

 

“What do you want me to do?” He asks.

“Show me your room.” Stiles voice is husky and low. It surprises him, but this fever between them is too much. He feels like he’s bursting apart when Derek isn’t touching him.

 

Derek sucks in a breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds. He opens them and pulls Stiles up slowly from the couch. Trailing him behind and toward the stairs. They take it slow and steady; Stiles warming up with the heat of Derek’s hand in his.

 

They head down the upstairs hallway and reach the end. The door is open and Stiles realizes he’s never been in here before. The room is dimly lit, a lamp in the far corner near a nice armchair by a window and another next to the door. The room is large, to far right is a large colonial window peering out into the forest. To his right is a tall old looking bookshelf brimming with books and another one near the other side of the window near the armchair. An antique looking desk sits in the corner across from the shelves.

 

Everything is colored in dark browns and shades of green and blue, like the rest of the house. A jacket thrown over the back of the desk chair, and a throw blanket on the edge of the bed. Some boots in the corner next to the door and a few picture frames filled with images of the Hale family hang around the room. On the corner of the desk and on the end table next to Derek’s bed.

 

It’s remarkably warm and Stiles realizes he’s wearing too many layers. He kicks off his sneakers, leaving them to the right of the door next to Derek’s boots.

 

“Are you still cold?” Stiles realizes they are still holding hands and untangles his fingers from Derek’s.

 

“No, actually it’s a little too warm.” Derek watches him take off his jacket, then his sweater until he’s down to just his stark white t-shirt.

 

It’s wet around the collar and his skin still has a chill to it and he’s kicking himself mentally for staying outside so long. Derek leans forward and suddenly Stiles is still because Derek’s hand is squeezing his collarbone.

 

“Still cold up here.”

 

“Yep.” Stiles glances at Derek’s face and heads for the center of the room, Derek’s warmth leaving his body. “Uh, so really nice room.”

 

“Thank you.” Derek is a few feet behind him and Stiles can’t look. “Stiles? Why did you want to come up here?”

 

“I have no idea.” Derek is quiet. “OK, obviously I want to do things, and I know that we haven’t talked a lot. I probably shouldn’t be here. I mean why would you want to- with me? That’s crazy.”

 

“Sex.”

 

Stiles spins around. “What?”

 

“That’s what you mean right?” His face is totally passive and Stiles wants to yell at him. He can’t read his stupid gorgeous face.

 

“Well, yeah but- we can’t do that right?”

 

“Are you asking, or telling?”

 

“Ugh!” Stiles rubs his head, his fingers tingling from the action. “This is stupid.”

 

“I want to.” Stiles turns back toward him, watching as Derek’s body leans toward the space in between them.

 

“You what?”

 

“I want, _you_. But I can wait, I can do things right.”

 

“You mean, like date first?”

 

Derek’s head nods up and down slowly. “If that’s what you want. That’s what I’ll do.”

 

Stiles breathes heavily, his eyes blinking too much. “I want to fuck you.” Derek’s eyes widen and he stills. His neck muscles flexing in shock. “Yep, I said it. I’ve always wanted to, but now I actually like you and trust you and want you. So yeah. I mean, we should date too, but mostly we should just seriously have sex. Like right now.”

 

Derek smiles, fucking bunny teeth and a chin dimple and Stiles can’t breathe. He closes the distance between them and takes Stiles into his arms. His hand cupping Stiles’ jaw, he pulls him into a close stare. His lips grazing Stiles’ he breathes his air for a few seconds. Stiles trails his hand up Derek’s arm and toward the collar of his shirt.

 

“How do you want to start?” He asks.

 

Stiles breathes. A slow smile rising on his face; an alpha giving him all the power. Asking him to take the lead.  “Slow, and you need to show me stuff because I am seriously not experienced.”

 

“You’re a virgin?”

 

Stiles shakes his head. “No, but with a guy I’ve never- I’ve done some sucking before. That’s about it. But not a virgin. I only had sex once with one girl, a few months ago.”

 

“Who?”

 

“This girl I’ve known forever, uh Heather. But she didn’t want to do that again. So I am very nervous because I am pretty sure I’m terrible at all this.” He gestures between them.

 

Derek laughs and Stiles is pretty sure it’s the greatest sound he’s ever heard. “You’re amazing at everything you’ve done so far. We can do anything you want. Or don’t want to do.”

 

“You are so going to regret saying that.” Stiles smirks.

 

He pulls Derek backwards, toward the bed and sits down. Derek stands in front of him, peering down with blown out pupils. Stiles reaches forward slowly, his hand moving to grip Derek’s hips. Derek strokes his neck and dips his hand under the back of Stiles’ collar to splay his palm over his back.

 

Stiles makes a sound and Derek leans down to nudge his head with his forehead. It’s a strangely cute gesture and Stiles leans his head back, the alpha dips down and kisses his gaping mouth. Pushing into his soft lips with fervor, his tongue teases his lower lip, and Stiles groans.

 

He reaches up over Derek’s arching back and pulls at his shirt. Derek leans back and Stiles watches him tug the shirt off. He can’t stop staring at his taut muscles, broad shoulders and thick arms. His mouth waters and he swallows hard. He sees Derek’s eyes watching the bob of his Adam’s apple.

 

He stands up and looks down. Gripping the edges if his own shirt and biting his lip. He tugs upward, his shirt coming off slowly, skin suddenly cold. He meets Derek’s eyes again after tossing his shirt next to Derek’s on the floor. The alphas eyes rake over his lean body with something hungry in his eyes. He reaches his hands forward and they land on Stiles’ hips. He tugs Stiles’ pelvis towards his own and stares. Just stares at Stiles body.

 

He laughs and Derek is pulled out of his stupor. “Surprised I’ve got some muscles or what?”

 

“No. I knew you did. I just never pictured this.” He swallows. “Never thought I would be with you.”

 

Stiles breath hitches, he lurches forward and takes Derek’s lips onto his. Hungry and deep. His tongue slides over Derek’s lower lip, he flicks it at his upper lip and Derek opens his mouth. Stiles doesn’t waste any time, covering Derek’s tongue with his own. He feels Derek’s body push into his, chest to chest, pelvis grinding into his.

 

He pants as he pulls away from Derek’s mouth. He reaches down, pulling on his belt and tugging him towards the bed again. Stiles turns away and crawls onto the bed hastily, flipping onto his back to watch Derek follow him. He lowers his head, eyes staring into Stiles’, he crawls onto the bed’s edge, arms moving slowly toward Stiles. He leans on top of him, Stiles’ propped up on his elbows and Derek’s arms behind them, mouth inches from his.

 

He inhales sharply and Derek grins before dropping his head the last few inches. He tilts his head, deepening their kiss. Mouths mashes together, lips slick and rough. Stiles can’t get enough of his mouth, he loves the taste. He slips his tongue past Derek’s lips again and licks into his mouth desperately. Derek growls and pushes Stiles down. He’s flat on his back, Derek’s body still hovering above him, legs entangled and his hands are needy around Derek’s waist.

 

Derek’s eyes rake over Stiles’ chest and he dips his head down near his neck. His lips are slow, soft around his throat, and Stiles lets his head fall against the soft blanket under him. His neck exposed, at the wolf’s mercy, and Derek teases him ruthlessly. Nipping and kissing along his jaw, down his throat and into the middle hollow between his clavicles.

 

Stiles can’t help the moan escape his throat. Derek’s nipping gets rougher, his kisses turn into sucking and licking and Stiles gets louder. Derek rolls his hips, dropping his body down, pelvis grinding into Stiles’.

 

“Fuck.” Stiles lets out a hard sigh.

 

Derek trails his tongue up the side of Stiles’ throat and up his jaw. His hot breath tickling his ear, he shakes head and grabs Derek’s jaw, pulling those plump dangerous lips back on his. He rolls his tongue over Derek’s lips, massaging his with his tongue, kissing at the corners and eliciting all kinds of sexy noises from the alpha.

 

Derek pushes his tongue past Stiles’ lips and pushes down hard. His head tilting into the kiss, fucking Stiles with his mouth. Stiles pulls Derek’s body toward him, hands exploring his muscular back. Feeling the tense and expanse of his muscles under his fingers, he groans into the intensity of his kiss.

 

Derek dips back down, sucking Stiles’ neck into his mouth, nipping at the thin flesh around his Adam’s apple. Stiles pants, digging his dull nails into Derek’s back.

 

“Pants, off like _now_.” Derek pulls back just enough to get his belt off, and Stiles does the same with his own.

 

The alpha kicks off his jeans quickly and ducks back down, Stiles looks up in time to catch Derek’s lips on his own again. Derek lays his body on top of Stiles’, his hands moving to caress the side of Stiles neck, moving up to his jaw and back and forth as he learns every nook and cranny of Stiles’ mouth.

 

Stiles ghosts his hands over Derek’s hips and up to the dimples in his lower back. Stiles sucks Derek’s bottom lip into his mouth and the alpha growls. He takes more time with Stiles’ neck and he cocks his hips, pushing into Derek’s pelvis.

 

“I need you in my mouth.” Stiles breathes as Derek’s sucking a hickey into his neck.

 

Derek moves up to his lips again and they push hard, needy into each other’s mouths. “I mean your dick.”

 

Derek pulls away enough to look into Stiles’ eyes. “My- you’re serious?”

 

“Uh yeah.” Stiles shakes his head like it’s obvious. _Because it is._

 

“I, OK.” Derek pulls back and Stiles sits up.

 

He grabs the wolf’s shoulders and pushes him toward the bed, he lets him get him onto his back. Stiles pushes up and sits on his knees. Staring at the black boxers cradling Derek’s hips, he sees the swell of his cock, pushing against the thin fabric.

 

Stiles touches his hips and Derek’s body twitches, the alpha’s got his elbows under him holding him up enough to watch Stiles. Stiles grabs at the waistband, tugging down and down and slower until he sees Derek’s long dick in front of him. He’s well-endowed and thick but nowhere near as monstrous looking as Stiles had imagined. He’s glad, and way to excited to get that in his mouth, but he wants this to last.

 

He tosses Derek’s boxers off the bed and pulls away. “Where?” Derek starts to ask, but Stiles’ starts pulling off his own clothes and Derek stills.

 

He gets off the bed enough to drop his own pants and kick them onto their pile of discarded clothes. He meets Derek’s eyes and hold his gaze while he pulls off his own boxers. He crawls back onto the bed and moves forward, up toward Derek’s mouth. His body shaking with nerves and excitement, their dicks graze each other as he searches for Derek’s mouth. He wets his lips and breathes the alphas air before tugging his bottom lip into his mouth again. Tasting his tongue, his mouth tracing its way around his jaw then toward his neck.

 

Derek grabs the back of Stiles neck suddenly and he stills. “What’s up?” Stiles gets nervous again. “Did I do something wrong?”

 

“No, I just. The throat is kind of sensitive for me.”

 

Stiles’ eyebrows furrow. “Oh, you mean as a wolf?”

 

“It’s a domination, if I let you then I submit to you.”

 

Stiles tilts his head. “That means when I put my head back before, I submitted to you?” Derek nods. “Well then, I need to get some of my pride back don’t I?”

 

It’s Derek’s turn to furrow his brows.  Stiles dips down and bites Derek’s throat. He growls loudly and Stiles licks the spot over with his tongue.

 

“All better?”

 

“You…”

 

He flips Stiles onto his back suddenly and fucks his mouth with his tongue. Teeth clicking on his, he’s ruthless, biting and sucking on Stiles lips. The heat disperses as Derek drags away from his mouth and moves down, sinking toward Stiles dick.

 

He takes one hand and grips the base of Stiles’ cock, his eyes meet Stiles’ and he inhales. Derek’s tongue flicks out, teasing his head and Stiles moans at him. He licks up his shaft and teases his head again, slicking Stiles’ cock before taking him into his mouth. He wants to yell but bites his lip and tosses back his head, elbows shaking wanting to drop him onto his back. But he stays up, propped because he can’t stop watching Derek’s cheeks hollowing around his dick.

 

Derek’s mouth engulfs his dick, deep throating Stiles easily, mercilessly. He sucks and Stiles can’t hold back the moan this time as Derek licks around his head, his hand now moving up and down until he develops a steady rhythm.

 

He pulls his mouth away and Stiles sees his lips reddened and wet with saliva. He keeps jerking his hand up and down, pushing in to suck Stiles head, and take him into his mouth again. He swallows around his cock and Stiles wants to scream, his breath hitches and he reaches forward.

 

Gripping the sheets with one hand and running his other hand through Derek’s dark hair. It’s so soft and Derek’s mouth is so warm. Stiles feels like he’s on fire, Derek is killing him and he doesn’t want him it to ever stop.

 

Derek keeps sucking, and Stiles closes his eyes; fingers gripping Derek’s hair, moving with his bobbing head. He’s constant and sloppy; his tongue licking over his head and mouth sucking down and up. His hand faster now, Stiles moans and Derek doesn’t stop.

 

“I’m gonna…”

 

Derek pulls his mouth away and keeps jerking up and down; Stiles can barely breath, panting and pushing up. Rocking his hips into the rhythm. A bolt shoots up his cock and he explodes, cum spraying all over his stomach and Derek’s.

 

He breathes out, shaky; his head spinning. He drops his head back and falls onto his back completely. Derek moves up and lays down next to him.

 

“Do you, have condoms and lube?” Stiles huffs.

 

“You- you want more?” Derek looks at him and Stiles turns his head.

 

“I want _you_.” Derek leans over him and kisses his lips, soft at first, then deep and slow. He pulls away and Stiles stares into his eyes.

 

His eyes are still hesitant and Stiles stares into them with determination. “I’m sure.”

 

Derek nods and moves away, turning toward the table next to his bed. He pulls out a small jar and a few condoms. Stiles grabs Derek’s jaw and pulls him into a deep kiss, the alpha moans, sinking back onto the bed. Stiles grabs the jar from him and sets it down next to him before slowly moving Derek getting him onto his back, mouths never leaving the heat of each other’s lips.

 

He sinks down and takes Derek’s cock into his mouth, slow and sucking. Derek’s breathes are heavy, his eyes slowly closing as Stiles sucks harder. Derek digs his nails into Stiles’ shoulders, rocking back and forth with his sucking rhythm. Slowing down only to let out a quiet moan. His fingers are needy, gripping Stiles skin like he can’t breathe without touching him. Stiles sucks down hard and pulls off Derek’s head, licking up his shaft, down and deep he ducks under and sucks on his balls. Derek cries out, half human half animal, Stiles licks back up to his head and Derek shudders, letting out a heavy sigh. Stiles takes the jar of lube with one hand, and sucks down Derek’s cock again before moving away from him, lips swollen, slick with the taste of the wolf.

 

Derek watches him unscrew the lid of the jar and soak his fingers in lube. He watches Derek’s eyes turn red and smirks. He goes down on him again, this time teasing his balls then his hole with his tongue. He sucks on his foreskin before working his fingers into Derek.

 

Derek growls again, this time pushing down and into the touch. Stiles hand moves slow, fingers taking their time up him, his tongue raking up Derek’s cock and teasing his hole until the alpha moans and grabs the back of his neck.

 

“You’re killing me, Stiles.” He bites his lip in response and Derek grips his shoulders again. Stiles yelps and Derek pulls away.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.” He looks at his own hands, his red eyes aren’t the only wolf part of him to react to Stiles. “My claws- did I hurt you?”

 

Stiles pulls back a little, fingers still in Derek’s ass. He starts working into him again, slow, but rough.

 

“Stiles?”

 

“Shut up.” Stiles swallows hard, mouth open, breathing hard. “You did hurt me, but- I liked it.”

 

Derek’s eyes flash, glowing dangerously. “Do that again.”  

 

Stiles pushes his fingers in further and Derek grunts; Stiles starts working him harder, dipping down to suck on his head. He pushes into the touch and Stiles moves up, fingers deep rotating slow and then back and forth. He kisses Derek’s hip and then bites him hard. Derek inhales sharply and then moans into a relaxed position. Stiles kisses up his lower abs and Derek cups his jaw.

 

“I need to be inside you.” Stiles meets his eyes and sees only red. His expression is soft, but his eyes are dark with intent.

 

“Oh yeah, yes.” He pulls his fingers out slowly, and bites his lip.

 

Derek swaps places with him easily, moving Stiles up further onto the bed and going straight for his dick. He takes him into his mouth hard and deep, sucking and licking furiously. Stiles can barely moan he’s so breathless. The alpha lubes his fingers and ducks under Stiles dick, pulling his legs up, Stiles lifts his ass and arches his spine.

 

Derek licks into his ass, fucking him with his mouth; it’s almost too much, the pressure, his sharp tongue. He feels something run down his thigh, and moves his head to see blood running toward the bed. Derek’s claws nicked his skin again and he pants, digging his nails into Derek’s shoulders as hard as he can.

 

Derek picks up his pace, pulling away only to work his thick fingers into Stiles. He groans and Derek moves up enough to take Stiles’ cock into his mouth again and again, working him slow and steady. Stiles’ flushes, his face is on fire, his skin uncomfortable. He can’t stop arching his back into Derek’s fingers, pushing his shoulders down so he swallows Stiles’ dick whole.

He moans and stares at Derek’s face, watching his mouth swallow him again and again. Cheeks hollowing, sucking, lips slick when he pulls away. _His ears are pointy?_

 

“Derek, fuck.” He pulls away enough for Stiles to see he’s half shifted. Eyes blown wide like an animal, ears sharp, claws out. “So hot.”

 

Stiles whispers and drops his head back as Derek swirls his fingers inside him. Another moan escapes him and Derek pulls his fingers out.

 

“What?” He moves up to reach his lips and Stiles’ breath hitches. Feeling Derek’s dick near his ass.  “Oh.”

 

“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”

 

“You’re hilarious. I couldn’t stop now, no way. I just- I kind of feel things and I don’t want this to be weird but.”

 

“I feel it too. I know it must be weird for you.”

 

“You can feel what I feel?” Stiles shakes his head and licks his lips again. “Make me feel more stuff. You know, like your dick in my ass.”

 

Derek makes a choked noise, then smirks haughtily. Stiles can admit he’s a little scared by that expression. Especially since Derek’s fangs are showing.

 

He dips down a little and adjusts his cock, or at least that’s what Stiles assumes since at this angle he can only see part of Derek’s ass and his own legs which are bent at the knee and possibly shaking. Just a little.

 

He smells sweat and tastes Derek on his tongue. He can’t believe what’s happening, that he’s with him and he feels it now, what Derek feels. It’s not just passion or sex, this is something else. He feels warmth, when Derek looks at him he feels heady, flames licking his skin. His neck heats up, his dick hardens and his stomach fills with butterflies.

 

The butterflies are what changes him; they are the reason he came here, why he wanted to do this.

 

He knows he cares about Derek, if he died, he doesn’t think life would ever be right again. Time and time again they risk their lives for each other, fight together, and trust each other to do it over again. This isn’t just alliance, they aren’t friends, they are bound. With the way Derek leans back and Stiles watches his dick disappear inside him, feels the pressure of his slick cock.  

He’s pretty sure they’re hell bound.

 

He digs in deep and Stiles moans loudly, embarrassing normally but right now nothing matters. Nothing but Derek’s lips near his mouth, breathing his air. His dick swollen and hard in his ass, moving back and forth. Back arching, hips bumping, Derek grinds down slow and Stiles lurches forward, clenching Derek’s arm in his hands.

 

They move in time, back and forth. Careful and slow, he knows how to handle Stiles and the more they go they more he realizes how much he cares. It shows in his patient eyes, his panting and slow deliberate movements.

 

Fire begins to pool in Stiles stomach and he realizes the pressure is rising. “Harder. I don’t care if I can’t walk tomorrow.” Stiles breathes.

 

Derek growls lowly in his ear, hot breath hitting his face. Derek’s face is tucked in the crook of Stiles’ neck. The wolf pushes in harder, speeding up his motions and Stiles moans. His skin ripples, breath coming in fast, shallow; he arches his back and Derek rolls his hips.

 

“Derek, don’t stop.”

 

Stiles moans loudly again, a pained sound in the back of his throat he cries out, lightning pulsing through him. Waves of fire rolling over his body and he comes, spraying down Derek’s stomach and his own again. Thick and sticky, Derek keeps going and a few seconds later he pulls out and comes over Stiles’ hips. Staring into Stiles’ eyes as he comes, a choked sound emerging from his throat, and then a low moan.

 

Stiles ass is unbearably warm and Derek croons as he falls onto Stiles’ chest. He wraps his arms around his waist, his claws, previously ripping the sheets now rest softly at Stiles’ hips. Stiles catches his breath slowly, heart pounding and body limp. His head is dizzy, mind in ruins.

 

Derek moves over to Stiles side, pulling his body closer to him. Derek cuddles his side, one hand cradling Stiles’ neck and the other wrapped possessively around his waist. Stiles lays flat on his back, wrecked with pleasure and deeply exhausted. He tastes something bitter in his mouth and realizes he bit his own lip hard enough to draw blood.

 

“I am just gonna lay here and bleed on your bed. It’s only fair.”

 

“That’s true.”

 

“Speaking of which, you came to me because we’re supposed to be mates or whatever. Which is fine, but I am not doing the destiny thing I hope you know.”

 

“I told you it is a choice Stiles. One both of us need to make.”

 

“Good. Anyway, uh- you healed really fast even though it was just me cuddling with you. Is that a mate thing?” He turns his head towards Derek and sees his eyes are closed.

 

A calm expression on his face, he opens his eyes and they are human colored. His eyes are like a fucking nebula, shifting color and causing ridiculous things to happen to Stiles’ heart. Palpitations are really annoying, especially since his adrenaline has already totally leaked out from the sex.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What else is a mate thing that we could do?”

 

Derek’s eyebrows furrow and relax and furrow. “I- you want to do mate things? Stiles it’s not just something, it’s really serious. We made love, and now you want to mate, and you should think about this before doing anything crazy.”

 

“Wow, you just spoke like many coherent _full_ sentences just now. I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you do that. Ever.” He smirks.

 

“Shut. Up.”

 

“Make. Me.”

 

He lurches forward and kisses Stiles hard, pulling away only to nip at Stiles’ lower lip.

 

“Mmmm, yep I am so getting used to this. And I have thought about it, _a lot_. Too much and that’s why it took me forever to come talk to you. I- don’t want to say the ‘L’ word, but I do really fucking care about you Derek. And it’s actually scary how much, so if you’re thinking that I just had sex with you because you’re hot, you’re so wrong.”

 

“You want to mate with me then?”

 

“Date you, mate you, _whatever_.” Stiles rolls his eyes. Before staring into Derek’s. “Yes.”

 

Derek’s face is super complex again. He would say blank, but that’s wrong. He’s thinking obviously, but what about?

 

“You have to say stuff, or I will not understand dude.”

 

“Don’t call me dude.”

 

“Derek, OK, Derek? You have to say something.” His fingers start shaking, his heart full of tension.

 

After several minutes of unbearable silence, Derek says. “You’ll have to join the pack.”

 

“Uh, yeah OK. Like, _officially_? Because I thought I was kind of pack already.”

 

“With me and Scott yes, but you will need to bond more with the others.”

 

“OK, but you didn’t…”

 

“I know. And yes. I want to be yours, if you’ll take me.” Stiles chuckles and Derek looks annoyed.

 

“That was super cheesy man, but- yes I do want you. And your ass, like a lot. A LOT.” He groans.

 

“Good. Because you’re mine.” He pushes forward and kisses Stiles’ throat.

 

“Can we go again?”

 

Derek laughs quietly and Stiles is sure now. That is the best sound he’s ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> Because Alex wanted Sterek and she inspires me to write dirty things. Also this whole story in un-beta'd, so sorry for any mistakes grammar wise.


End file.
